The Barn

Dreams chase me back and forth across the bed. By three I know I didn't feed the extra flake. Four a.m. I'm pulling on my hat, vest. The moon is steeping behind clouds. Wind against my blue pajamas. Dogs jump off the porch and scatter. No horses in the barn as I drop the flake in the manger. Walking back up, calling dogs by name: Al, Scout. Jenna's on the porch. Company is gone tonight. Don't know if she left in irritation. More company comes today. Tony comes tomorrow while I'm working the next three nights. He says he might sleep in the barn with me but then can't figure out how to coordinate the dogs.

Awake again at seven. Hiss at the dogs, quiet. Coffee in bed. Eyes leaking tears. I get my computer. Start typing a message to my cousin who likes horses. Who's going to start riding seriously now that she's retired, now that she's almost seventy, next time she comes back from Haiti.
And I tell her my first two horses when I was thirteen, when I was twenty were disasters, absolute disasters. Now I am so lucky to have somwhere to flee to. Two times this week I ave had to brush past all obstacles to climb on a horse and realign, reaffirm. I ask my cousin how other people do it?

Walk back up to the house, pale sun, red bushes. Get the crock pot going and sweep athe floor. three heads of cabbage. I'll put my company to work with me slicng for saurkraut.

I think I'll put a CD on. I'll turn it up loud.

Clean stalls in my blue pajamas while the horses are eating oats and barley. I'll be back I say. We'll all go out this morning. The arena's already raked. with my friends we'll turn this day around.